In Pursuit of Perfection
by SoloSlinger
Summary: Jaylon is a teenager who appears to be carefree yet disciplined – but is that who he really is? His inner strength will be tested when a chance event thrusts him into a different but familiar world. Armed with toy guns, he must find a way to survive in the Kalos Region, where age-old tensions are resurfacing in a newer, deadlier form... (Full summary inside.)


**Author's Note (24/12/2014):**

**Good day, everyone.  
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**Well, this is my first Pok**é**mon fanfiction and my second attempt at writing a viable show-not-tell story. Therefore, I would like to make it clear that there will be ongoing revision to rectify the story's sequence, grammatical errors, and OOCness, so please bear with me. Any reviews or PMs regarding these issues will be greatly appreciated.**

**As for the story summary... I have an extended version here:**

**"Eighteen-year-old Jaylon is desperate to find his purpose in life, make true friends and have the perfect girlfriend, to end his pessimism and loneliness. He appears to be carefree yet disciplined - but is that who he really is? A recent graduate of an Australian high school, Jaylon seeks to restore lost hobbies - toy guns, music and sports - but he has lost his enthusiasm. But he cannot foresee what will happen when a chance event thrusts him into a different but familiar world. His inner strength will be tested and his life changed. Armed with toy guns, he must find a way to survive in the Kalos Region, where age-old tensions are resurfacing in a newer, deadlier form... Will he achieve his life goals in the meantime? **

**(Rated Teen for Violence, Language, Suggestive Themes)"**

**Thank you for checking out my story and let's see how you like it.**

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><p><strong>Part 1: Safety and Self-esteem<strong>

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><p><em><strong>One<strong>_

_**'Positive Thinking'**_

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><p><em>December, 2014<em>

It's a typical summer morning in inner Melbourne. I'm standing beside the front door of my brother's house, waiting for him to finish cleaning himself. Sweat is erupting from my forehead, rolling down my face, dripping from my chin. Hastily, I pull a handkerchief from the inner pocket of my black business suit jacket, and wipe my forehead dry. I brush the already wet cloth across the lens of my new, _Timberland _glasses, sweeping off droplets of sweat. By the time I've done all of that, new sweat has already formed on my face. As I doubt it'll be of much use in the long term, I put the wet cloth back.

There is supposed to be a very high chance of rain today, but I don't remember seeing any gray clouds in the sky. So it probably won't rain. That's just the norm for Melbournian weather forecasting – it's almost never right. If only we could control the weather, though, and make it rain when there's a drought or when there are bushfires. Make a sweltering hot day cooler and more comfy. So nobody'll have to worry about climate change – and hence human extinction – anymore. Then we won't need weather forecasts either. But weather-control is impossible. At least, with today's technology, that is. Right now, it's best to leave things to nature, I guess. If we must risk a heatstroke, then a heatstroke we must risk.

I hear the flushing of a toilet. That must mean my brother has finished crapping. Next, I believe he'll wash his hands, before brushing and flossing his teeth. He'll probably wash his face, too. And why don't we add his glasses to the list? It's not as if we're going to be late for our sister's wedding, is it?

I've been standing here for, what, five minutes? After checking my watch, which is on my left wrist, I realise it's actually _seven_ minutes of waiting for my brother. Seven bloody minutes. With my shoulders weighed down by my navy blue rucksack. With me wearing a suit on this sweltering Sunday. Practically soaked in my own sweat. Almost ruining my perfect suit and Full Windsor tie.

My bag contains a cosplay Assassin's Creed cloak and a few toy guns, amongst other things. I'll be wearing the cloak during an event I'll be participating in after my sister's wedding. In fact, that event is a toy gun war in a large park near the Eureka Tower. It's going to be a big one, with around thirty players, I think. It'll be a free-for-all deathmatch, with everyone having three lives. But of course, some people will probably form allies and kill off the rest first before turning on themselves. I have my own allies, whom I don't really know in person, except in this massive role-playing game.

But today they just might turn against me, for I'm actually relying on them for bringing extra ammo for my guns. Two bucketfuls, to be precise. About two hundred rounds, to be more precise. So, of the ten toy guns that I have, I've selected four of my very best. I'll probably only be using three of them, though, because the last one's a water pistol. Even so, I've decided to bring the water gun because it might be a good substitute for a real-life stun gun. People don't expect being soaked, even though water guns aren't actually against the rules. So, I think a water gun can create elements of surprise in my war games.

Just in case my allies stop being allies, I've packed some additional ammo anyway: two extra 12-dart magazines for my _Nerf Retaliator_, and two extra 75-bead cartridges for my _Blaster Pro Auto Fire E5000_. But I don't think they'll betray me. After all, I'm quite renowned in the field as "The Officer" or "The O". I think it's because, like real-life military officers, I always have my _Nerf Firestrike_ sidearm with me, kept in a holster to be attached to my belt. And I hardly ever miss with the _Firestrike_.With a great kill-to-death ratio, this toy gun community has even endowed me with a star badge, further entrenching my field status as _The_ _Officer_. I think my badge is attached to my cosplay cloak.

At the far end of the corridor, the bathroom door clicks. Out steps my brother, looking clean and fresh in a black suit and tie like mine. I check my watch. I've been waiting for almost ten minutes. We have about twenty minutes to walk to the Eureka Tower, take the lift to the 88th floor and attend the wedding. If my brother can just hurry up, we might be able to reach our destination in half the time.

"So you're ready, Gabriel?" I ask, as my brother walks down the corridor towards me. He doesn't answer; instead, he turns right and heads into the living room. I can't see where he is, but he soon comes back out carrying the white shoulder bag that he usually brings along when he goes out. He saunters to me, then kneels down to put his black leather shoes on. Then he stands up again, and I get a good look at him. I notice that his bowlcut hair is particularly shiny today.

"Gel?" I wonder aloud. I get a monotone "yes" from him as an answer. The rest of his answer must be derived by conjecture. So... Gabriel's decided to gel his hair today just because of the wedding... Well, I didn't gel my hair – it's too short, anyway.

Gabriel reaches into his bag and takes out a can of sugarfree _Mentos_ chewing gum, before popping a gum pellet into his mouth. But before he can put his can back, I stop him. "Can I – _May _I have one?"

He seems to hesitate, so I add, "I've got some powerful mint, so we can trade later." I unzip my left suit pants pocket – the pockets are custom made for security, in case I get pickpocketed. I take out a can of _eclipse_ intense cooling mint, and rattle it for emphasis. Gabriel nods in acknowledgement, handing me a chewing gum pellet, which I then put into my mouth. Minty freshness explodes in my mouth as soon as I start to chew.

"Thanks, bro." I smile, putting my mints back and closing the pocket.

"Tanks and aeroplanes," he replies in a monotone. Well, I used to pronounce 'thanks' _tanks_. Gabriel noticed that and now he uses it to tease me, even when I've stopped pronouncing it that way. Well, at least he's talking a lot more now.

Gabriel walks past me, opens the door and steps outside. I follow him, locking it and about to close it behind me when I remember something. So, I step back inside, putting on my panama hat from the clothes hanger right next the door, before stepping back outside. Unfortunately, I think a fly's flown inside before I shut the door. I guess I'll just have to hunt it down when we return.

When I've locked the security screen door, Gabriel's nowhere to be seen. He must realise we're right on track to being late. But I check my left wrist watch and learn we still have fifteen minutes. Plenty of time to get to the Eureka Skydeck 88 and meet the rest of our family there. Enough time to look around at the decor before the wedding of my sister and her fiancé. After trying the door handle to see if it's truly locked, I dash down the front porch and the driveway. A sleek, black Holden GT Commodore sits on the driveway.

In case Gabriel's actually faster than I am, I run to the backyard of the house. After retrieving my flame-styled caster board, I get on it, and accelerate out of the house in pursuit of my brother.

It's taken me less than a minute to locate Gabriel. He's striding with both hands in his suit pants pockets, head tilted to the ground, black ear buds in both ears. He must take his Android with him. I have mine as well – the exact same model as his. But I've blue canalphones, which are in my bag, along with a solar charger, just in case.

I look around me, as I decelerated, humming to myself. We're on a pavement along a major inner-city road. Tall buildings jut out from the ground around us, providing shelter from the roasting sun. Trees line the traffic islands on the road, providing some oxygen for the daily urban commuters. The traffic is remarkably low, so I figure most of the people must be at church or something – today is Sunday, after all.

When I've caught up to Gabriel, I get off the caster board and hold it in my left hand. I'm about to say something, but I realise he's listening to loud, rock music. Very loud music. So I bump my right shoulder into his left.

"What?" demands Gabriel, turning his head to look at me. His eyebrows are furrowing. Probably because he's noticed my caster board, though he doesn't say anything about it.

"What do you think about Evelyn's wedding?" I ask abruptly. Evelyn is our sister. We only have one sister, and she's older than the two of us. I'm the youngest in my family, though, _but_ I'm the tallest. With a height of 1.95 metres, I tower over Evelyn, and I'm about ten centimetres taller than Gabriel. As for my parents, Mum's only a few centimeters taller than Evelyn, and Father's a little shorter than Gabriel. So, here's the order according to increasing height from left to right: Evelyn, Mum, Father, Gabriel, me.

"It hasn't happened yet," Gabriel responds. It's a wonder how he can answer me despite listening to loud music.

"I know," I chirp. "What I mean is what do you think will happen?"

"A wedding will happen," Gabriel answers.

I realise I'm going to get nowhere if this conversation continues like this. When bored, Gabriel tends to give curt answers to questions. If at home, he usually plops down on the sofa in the living room to watch the TV or play video games. If _I _have nothing to do, I might watch the TV, but only if it's interesting, since Gabriel tends to hog the TV remote. Or I might play video games with him, either do co-op missions or a PVP with shooters like _Halo_, or take turns with a single-player game like _Assassin's Creed_. Or I might just read or listen to music in my bedroom. Or do some PT. So, I can theoretically talk about these things with him right now. Instead, I say, "Hey, you're twenty-four, right? When are you getting married?"

Instantaneously, Gabriel shoots back, "Hey, you're seventeen, right? When are _you_ getting married?"

"After I get a girlfriend," I respond honestly. A girlfriend... I've never had one before, even though I've had near misses with multiple crushes over the course of my life. Sometimes, I think some of them actually liked me back, but they were probably either too shy or too slow. If they are too shy, we may never get to talk – usually, glances are all that are exchanged. If they are too slow, we may fall out of love with or friendzone each other.

Last year, I noticed a particular girl staring at me for no apparent reason. I remember looking around me to see if she had been staring at something else. But she wasn't. So, I decided to talk to her, and befriend her to see what would happen. Before long, I got infatuated with her – what with her aesthetics, athleticism, personality and intelligence. As a bonus, she's a blonde. For some reason, I prefer blondes. Perhaps because of a vivid dream I had when I was ten – _an athletic, beautiful blonde girl was going through a sort of obstacle course. I tried to catch up, but I couldn't. _But I guess I got friendzoned by her – she rejected me not once, but twice. The second time was more like a dare from a friend, but still...

"What about you? Don't you have a girlfriend?" I ask Gabriel. Now that I've answered his question, he must return a proper response.

"No," he says.

"Why not?" I ask, hoping to prompt him.

"Why don't you have a girlfriend?" he questions.

"Because it's hard to find the right one," I answer, shrugging. "And at this rate I'll have absolutely no hope of marrying."

Silence fills the gap between my brother and me. I realise the conversation's dead. But I wonder how my brother can be like this. He's elder than me, so he should be setting good examples for me. He should at least try to sustain this dialogue. At least I have more lively discussions with my parents.

I sigh in exasperation. Sometimes, I wish I hadn't decided to live at my brother's place. Maybe I should've stayed at my parents' despite the tense situation there. I'm about to growl in frustration when I hear my mother's voice echoing in my mind: _You must think positively, Jaylon. Even when you are frustrated, try taking deep breaths, or doing something else._

"Ah shit," I mutter to myself. "Gotta think positively."

Digging my Android smartphone from my right pants pocket, I open up Google Chrome and search for any interesting, breaking news to dissipate my frustration. I open an online news site and scroll through it. Nothing much, although a few headlines do catch my attention:

SPECULATION OF ALIEN ATTACK

2015: END OF WORLD

FOUR MISSING AFTER FOUR METEORS IN FOUR HOURS

I think these articles are all related, but I open the third one because it seems more believable. And the specificness of the number _four _intrigues me. I put the phone back into my pocket securely, waiting for the page to load.

But I doubt I'll have time to read it, because Gabriel and I are nearly at our destination. The Eureka Tower stands proudly at the other side of a large park, the same one that I believe will turn into a battlefield in a couple of hours. A concrete pathway snakes through the park, ending right at the base of the tallest building in Melbourne. An open grass field lay on the right of the pathway, and numerous trees dot the remainder of the park on the left. I think most of the toy gun battle will take place in the forest area. Perhaps some snipers will camp in the grassy area. I check my watch and say to myself, "Tee minus five minutes."

After settling my caster board gently on the floor, I take out a tissue paper from my right pants pocket and spit my chewing gum into it. I get Gabriel to do the same. Then I crumple the tissue paper in my right hand and pick up my caster board again using the same hand.

With my left hand, I take out my mints. After Gabriel and I have both popped one into our mouths, we start to make our way towards the Tower, going through the knee-deep grass in order to reach our destination in the shortest amount of time possible.

But, suddenly, Gabriel stops in his track, and, from the corner of my eye, I know he's turned to his left. That is, he's facing me. I glance at him, before saying casually, "You know, this is the same place where I'll be playing in a toy gun war later. I think have a spare gun – the _E5000 – _so you can join me if you want to."

Then I realise he probably won't take on my invitation – he may not be so social, but he's still conscious of societal attitudes. Maybe not my attitude, though, because he's still silent.

I find that I've still got his attention, so I continue babbling when I remember the most important thing I've brought. "Oh yeah, I've also got a kinda-sorta gift for Evelyn." Since Gabriel still isn't responding, I take said gift out of my bag. It's in a little box, which looks like a wedding ring case.

I start grinning like a kid as I open the box to reveal a refractable, though fake, jewel, approximately the shape of a tear drop, sitting on velvet. Then I shut the box and put it back into my bag carefully. "Only thing is it already belongs to her," I comment. "I mean, it was in her old room back at the parents' house."

The plastered smile on my face is starting to fade – I can feel it. In fact, if it isn't for my mother's echoing voice, I might yell at Gabriel, scolding him for having no respect for me: "You should go _join_ the _military_, they'll _teach_ you the _meaning_ of _respect_."

Instead, I force myself to take a deep breath and sigh through my nose. I turn to look at my brother in the eye. However, he's not looking at me. He's actually looking at the sky. I notice his jaw hanging loosely, his pupils constricting to pinpoints. Is that an expression of shock? Or awe? Or maybe he's got heatstroke? Wow, I think I can see his mint still in his mouth.

But then I notice something odd in his eyes.

A fireball.

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><p><strong>Author's Note (2412/2014):**

**Well, a happy Christmas and a bright New Year to you all!**


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